


No place to call home

by hanekoma



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanekoma/pseuds/hanekoma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crashing back home intoxicated seemed like a good idea to Jason Todd. At first, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No place to call home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tealgeezus over on tumblr.

Wayne Manor. A building that contained so many memories, so many experiences. What once was a home now turned into just some expansive setting with too many walls, too many windows and too many doors, some that remain secret among only the privileged few.

A storm was brewing on the horizon, the lawn and pavement already damp from an earlier shower, but the thunderheads and distant rumbles were a telling sign that this wouldn’t be some sort of refreshing rain. Glimpses of light spread out behind the structure, soon accompanied by a low roll of thunder. It felt quite fitting to the mood being set.

This was a horrible idea. Jason knew it the moment he approached the oversize, wooden door. By this point, Bruce surely knew he’d arrived. There was no point in turning away now. Instead of bothering with something so trite as knocking, his shoulder and arm slammed against the door, then shifting to slump against the frame.

The alcohol was strong enough that he could taste it with every breath. Fuck, he was being extremely stupid showing up here. A gloved hand ran over the door handle, half tempted to just break down the door with guns drawn and ready to go. For some reason, Jason remained waiting and looking more calm than he felt.

Feeling the handle starting to turn after a few clinks of locks being undone, Jason drew his hand back as if he’d just touched scalding water. While trying to stabilize himself in a proper standing position, he slapped on a grin and opened his mouth to greet Alfred.

Except it wasn’t Alfred that stood there in front of him. Instead, the larger figured of Bruce Wayne stood before him. Sweat covered the man’s body, a towel carelessly draped over one shoulder. Momentary shocked registered over Jason’s features before he settled into a glare.

Right now, he had two options that were tearing him in two directions. The first was to reach back and grab the knife that was sitting so cozy in its holster, lashing out with all his aggression in hopes that in this inebriated state, he could land a fatal blow. Opposing that was the pure, unadulterated desire to shove inside the door and do something even more reckless.

Before Jason could choose either option for himself, his arm was grabbed and he was dragged full-force inside. The large door was nearly slammed with the weight of his body being shoved up against it. When his shoulders hit the wood, even with the padding of his jacket, the wind was knocked clean out of it.

There was a possibility that it was the alcohol that was making him feel so warm. Maybe the sudden warmth from the juxtaposition from outside to in, especially with the layers he was wearing. Instead, it was most likely the fact that Bruce Wayne, half naked and glistening from moisture, was incredibly close.

If he was asked later why he was doing this, it would all be attributed to the alcohol. There was no way he would admit that this was any sort of lingering attachment, but with the way his arms reached up and wrapped around the back of Bruce’s neck. it was hard to deny that fact.

It was almost like a game of who would submit to the other first. Which one would give in to the brewing heat and desire that was crackling between them. Jason brought his lips to almost touch Bruce’s own. The heat of the older man’s breath coaxing his lips caused him to recoil and pull back. “Bruce, this wasn’t why I—”

“Then why did you come here, if it wasn’t for this?” Even if he was the first to break the silence, hearing Bruce’s voice echo through the main hall sent a chill down his spine. It sounded quite loud to his ears. Almost to the point of pain.

The question seemed to burn him. No, it scalded him. If he was in a more sober state, he would have easily dodged getting pinned like this, but that slight reeling feeling of his surroundings made his equilibrium that much more unsteady.

While he was letting it sink in, both of Bruce’s hand settled on either side of Jason’s body as he leaned in closer. This simple motion caused his heart to ache even more. Unwilling to hold that stern gaze, his eyes flickered away from Bruce’s face.

Feelings he didn’t want to admit were on the edge of his tongue were trying to spill out without his permission. Years of anguish and unsatisfied rage felt like a knot in his chest and in his stomach. Eyes flickered over Bruce’s broad chest, following the curvature of his muscles and bones.

Going with his initial reaction, Jason moved one gloved hand to tighten into Bruce’s hair. Instead of going with that fierce need for a kiss that was boiling inside, he jerked Bruce’s head back and went for his throat. The one spot that was probably most vulnerable on Bruce was the place where he wanted to attack.

All this pain that ripped him apart, he wanted to engrave it on the older man; yet, there was no way he could do this without tearing his throat out. It took all his strength not to bite down and draw blood, wound and destroy him. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, and despite how much he desired to share his own pain, that wasn’t what he really wanted.

Despite the fact that Bruce had him pinned against the door and could easily take full control of the situation, it seemed as if he was giving in to Jason’s whims. After all, the weight being pressed against his body was lessened and those hands weren’t as firm against the door. In fact, it was almost as if Bruce was starting to hold him instead of keeping him trapped.

The hand that wasn’t tightened into Bruce’s hair came up to press just below his own mouth. Fingers curled around as much of his throat that he could while he kissed further up and under Bruce’s chin to give his hand more room to work.

There was no fight from Bruce with every movement he made and while he could just squeeze, there was this implict trust that lingered from years ago. It was as if Bruce knew that he wasn’t going to be killed right then and there. Or, maybe it was that Bruce was willing to accept whatever Jason had planned.

Pulling back just so slightly, Jason glared at Bruce with his hand still cupping his throat. Seeing that placid look in Bruce’s eyes, his hand tightened a bit, but not enough to fully cut off his air passage. All his emotions felt like they were fighting one another. There was a dichotomy inside.

“I don’t know what the fuck I came for,” he finally spat out in response to Bruce’s earlier question as his grip loosened. The reason he came most certainly wasn’t to get messed up in this same sticky situation and regret his choice in the morning. Except that’s exactly what he was doing.

Removing his hands from the door, Bruce brought them up to press against Jason’s face. The touch was warm and gentle. It wasn’t fair when he pulled things like this. No, he didn’t want to give in. His mind was screaming to just tighten the grip and be finished with this twisted game they played with one another.

Yet, at the pace they were going and the familiar rut they almost always fell into, it was only a matter of time before they both succumb to this sexual attraction and all reserve would be thrown out the window. Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted another shot of alcohol or wished he’d taken one less.

The gloved thumb stroked over Bruce’s trachea in thought, letting out a soft hum in thought. Jason moved his lips away from Bruce’s chin and pressed them to Bruce’s ear. He could feel his own breath and smell the remnants of the alcohol he’d consumed. “Bedroom. Now. Before I change my mind and do what I originally planned.”

For once, and the first time of the night, Bruce wasn’t going to give in to this demand. A small and wry smile crossed over his mouth as moved Jason back against the door. Even if his throat was still being gripped, he would be defiant on this part.

“If I pull away now, you’re just going to run.” In the back of his mind, Jason knew this was true and all he could do was wonder what Bruce was planning at this point. Was he implying that he’d just take him right here against the door?

Well, they had done it before, even with the risk of Alfred finding them in such a compromising state. Though, knowing Bruce, he already warned Alfred not to come to the door for any reason and to turn in for the night. His thoughts were distracted the moment he felt the hand on his stomach, which caused him to draw in a sharp breath.

After a moment, Jason let out a small snort. “So, then, what are you planning to do?” he challenged back. The answer that came back wasn’t in words and instead with a deep kiss. One that he hadn’t been prepared for and it took almost a minute to adjust into it. The grip on Bruce’s throat completely relaxed and his hand slid over, knocking the towel from Bruce’s shoulder and to the floor.

It was probable that Bruce could tell just how much alcohol he’d had before coming over by taste alone. That fact didn’t seem to deter him in the current situation. After all, he’d been in worse shape when they’d had a midnight tryst before. Much, much worse off — the last time included.

All the anger and aggression that he wanted to let pour out in killing the multi-billionaire, he focused solely into that kiss. He was going to make sure that tomorrow Bruce could feel the bruise and taste the blood he left on his lips. A low growl resonated in his chest as he gave in to this twisted need and bit down on Bruce’s lower lip, enough to draw blood.

Even with this pain he was trying to drive in, never once did Bruce shy away from it. This only spurned Jason on further, trying to get some kind of reaction from the older man. Sure, Bruce might have been the one who initiated the kiss, but he wanted more of a response from him. Anything would do.

So many emotions ran through him like a whirlwind, getting mixed up from the half-drunk, half-sober state he was lingering in. It was almost as if he was in a dense fog that was starting to clear, but only enough to cause shapes to become more confusing.

With every second that ticked by, he was that much closer to giving in completely to the elder man. Perhaps sobriety in the situation wasn’t such a horrible thing, but at the same time, it also caused them to slide into that game once again.

The hand that had been gripping onto Bruce’s shoulder and now sought on the top of the pants Bruce was wearing. His other hand still had its tight grip into Bruce’s hair. During all this, his grip had tightened a bit further.

Jason’s gloved hand ran over the edge of Bruce’s pants and he determined that this was exactly what he wanted — no, what he needed. It was almost as if a fever was coursing through his body, setting every nerve-end on fire and sex with Bruce was the only thing that could quell this flame. Letting go of Bruce’s hair, his other hand joined to push down the sweats and boxers Bruce was sporting.

“I sure hope you came prepared,” Jason growled out against Bruce’s lips. Pending the answer, he would either stick around or bolt. Bruce was right, if the other man let up at all, he was going to take off like a jackrabbit.

Knowing Bruce, though, and his ‘always be prepared’ motto, it was most likely that he was quite prepared. One hand slipped down to the pants that were currently resting at Bruce’s thighs and sought out the pocket. No surprise, there he tugged out the contents to find a packet of lube and a condom. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint one of my own, now would I?” Those words felt like bile in the back of his throat. Perhaps he was too sober to hear this, but it made him recoil. His hands came up and pressed against Bruce’s chest to shove him away in one quick motion. Immediately, he spun around and grabbed for the door handle to make his escape.

One inch open — that was all the further Jason had gotten the door open before Bruce slammed it back shut. Strong and all too familiar arms wrapped around him and he bit down on his lip as his eyes pressed closed. If he ignored him long enough, perhaps Bruce would simply go away. He knew this was just wishful thinking, though.

Hot breath on his ear made him ache from head to toe. What he wanted was nothing more than to give in, but his pride was tearing at his heart. “This doesn’t have to be about sex, you know. Please come home.” These words. These words were exactly what he wanted to hear. Perhaps as much as ‘the Joker is dead.’ Yet they were words he couldn’t handle properly.

“Sex is all this is about, Bruce. You know that was well as I. If it wasn’t, I would have stopped coming here long ago.” What Jason wanted to do was give in and find his home here, rebuild everything he knew and start over. It was just too hard to give up on all that history and all that sorrow. Sex was all he could take and all he could give, at this point. After all, everything else was buried too deep in a place he couldn’t even touch.

When Bruce let up on him, it was at that moment when Jason felt the most painful thing of the night. It would have been less painful if Bruce had used him as a sexual release and let him leave in the morning. At least then there would be no ties and they could continue this facade that he didn’t need more than sex. “Then perhaps we should stop.”

Now, more than ever, it was tempting for Jason to just turn around and slice that man’s throat open. Watch as Bruce expired before him. Perhaps, then, he could return to the grave in peace. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s stop.” There was no way he could hide the bitterness in his tone. Even if Bruce thought this was ‘for the best,’ this was only helping to widen the rift between them and estrange them even further from the other.

“I thought you might say that,” Bruce murmured as one hand pressed back against Jason’s arm again. “But what I really want is for us to keep going. You shy away whenever I try to make this something more and yet you run whenever I try to keep it the same.”

Suddenly, the arm that Bruce had been holding was jerked and he was spun around. For a moment, it took his senses to catch up with what had happened and the world to stop spinning. Obviously, Jason was still a bit more intoxicated than he’d imagined. Once again, he was slammed against the door and his eyes focused once again on Bruce.

“So, what is it that you really want?” Bruce asked in a quiet tone. It wasn’t anything demanding or forceful. There was sincerity and concern in the tone than Jason ever thought he’d hear from Bruce, which only complicated their situation further. This night really was more of a struggle than he’d ever imagined it would be. If he could have a do-over, he would never have come here, no matter what the end results might be.

Yet again, he felt like a cornered animal, ready to lash out at any second. It was getting harder to breathe, the more he sobered up. This was supposed to be some drunken fling, one that he could claim to regret in the morning. Instead, what he was getting was some soul searing and heartbreaking conversation with the man that had both created and destroyed him.

Wordlessly, he collapsed against Bruce. It didn’t matter if they had sex right now, it didn’t matter whatever Bruce decided to do with him. He was so broken that he couldn’t figure out what was up or down anymore. When Bruce picked him up, there was a pain and vague familiar sense. Residual feelings from years ago seemed to spring to mind from their current position. “Bruce, you can’t carry me like this.”

“Then are you going to actually carry yourself to my room or am I going to have to break my back carrying you up there? At this point, I think I’m going to be the more stubborn of the two of us.” Bruce’s words made Jason laugh the slightest bit and he dropped his head against his shoulder.

As tempting as it was to see Bruce struggle with this and potentially injure himself, he pushed at his chest some to pry away. “Let me down, I can walk myself, stubborn old man.” Jason was set down and he sighed.

Before waiting for his escort, he began to head to the stairs he’d climbed so many times. No matter what had changed, everything seemed to stay the same from ages ago. As he walked, he distracted himself from thinking about their destination and tugged at the gloves he wore. First one was removed, then the second. By the time he’d pocketed them, they’d reached their destination.

The mood hung heavy and a mix of anticipation, fear and anger ran through Jason’s mind all at once. Swallowing hard, he reached out to the door handle. Just before he could get a grip, his hand was being pushed away and Bruce turned the knob.

Without sound, the door was opened, having been well maintained by the faithful butler of the house. Tensing just so slightly, Jason felt Bruce’s hand press against his lower back. “At least stay for breakfast this time.” That breath felt distracting with its heat and moisture against his ear in combination with that low an husky voice.

One thing Jason found amazing was how every word from Bruce’s mouth formed into sentences that bore through him and right down to his core. Each little phrase seemed to test Jason’s resolve and mess up his emotions. It’d be a lie if he said he didn’t want to flee the scene yet again.

“Let’s see if you can make me sore enough to stay,” Jason quipped back as he shoved away from Bruce and into the room. Hardly anything had been changed since the last time he had been inside the room. Perhaps both of them were creatures of habit to a fault. Hell, even the bed looked exactly the same as last time.

Jason heard the shut behind him before he felt one arm slip around his waist. Slowly, he was pulled back against Bruce, feeling that heat against his back. Part of him wanted nothing more than to just sink into that feeling, but his pride wouldn’t let him give in that easily. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to Bruce and his relationship — whatever that might be.

A sharp breath was sucked in as Jason felt lips press against his neck. It started out with a gentle kiss and eased into a light sucking sensation. Fingers dug into Bruce’s hand as he felt a faint bite at the vein of his neck. Even if the both of them had bruised, cut and beaten the each other in the past, it was almost as if Bruce was taking care not to actually mark Jason.

When Bruce slid his hand down to begin working at Jason’s belt, he pulled away. The pants were not to be the first thing to go. Instead, he reached up to peel the jacket off and just let it drop where he stood.

Making a show of it, Jason next pulled out the knife he had tucked away and tossed it down on his coat. Second to come out was his handgun. His eyes fixed on the gun as his thumb ran along the safety. Eyes met with Bruce’s as he played with the trigger for a moment before he discarded it to the coat, right beside the knife. The clatter of metal didn’t break the intense look between them.

Walking over to the bed, one foot lifted from the ground and propped up against the frame. There was no concern if the bottom of his boot would scar the wood. It was just something else that Bruce could easily replace. As he curled slightly forward, Jason’s leg muscle tightened as well as his back. His body’s tense posture reflected just how tense his thoughts were.

Just as Jason moved his hands to unlace his boots, Bruce’s hands covered his own to stop even initial progress. A breath was drawn in slow and deep as he felt the heat from Bruce’s body begin to envelope him. Moving his hands out of the way, he reached back to thread his fingers into slightly damp hair due to sweat.

Warm lips pressed against his neck as Bruce worked to unlace the first boot before he heard “other foot” muttered in a low and husky voice. The tonal quality brought back memories of patrol, of confronting Batman as Red Hood… a general mix of bittersweet and just bitter memories flooding inside.

As an automatic response, Jason made to elbow Bruce. There was no surprise how the man who had trained him was able to pull away, but his own training failed him with the faulty equilibrium because of the alcohol. Before he could stumble onto his ass, Bruce had caught Jason and pulled him flush against his body.

Bruce’s arms wrapped around his body and his hands stroked down Jason’s stomach. They settled on the edge of the leather for a moment before working to get the clasp open. For the moment, he resigned himself just slightly and leaned back against Bruce. Once again, his hand reached back to mess up the sweat-stained hair.

Metal scraping and clinking from the belt resonated through the room as it was undone. It was slightly surprising that Bruce didn’t pull the belt from the loops and hang it up, but perhaps he knew that Jason might push away yet again with anything deemed unnecessary. While his belt was being unfastened and the zipper was tugged down, he took the time to toe the first boot off.

Taking a step forward, Jason moved to lift the foot that was still donning his boot up to the edge of the bed. It came down hard against the would and he could even hear a slight crack in the frame. He couldn’t help but grin at this. Yet again, Bruce was on him, unlacing the boot until it was loose enough to slip free.

Jason pried free of the other man before he kicked his boot off. Now it was time for his pants to be worked off. It was less of a waste of time to take care of his boxers at the same time as his pants, so he pushed both articles of clothing down to his thighs and let gravity do its handwork in pulling them down to his ankles.

Stepping out of them, he began to round on Bruce now. “Your turn,” he muttered as his fingers went to the lace that kept the sweatpants tight. The knot was loosened and he hooked his hands on both sides, grabbing whatever else Bruce might have been wearing underneath and tugged down as he sunk to his knees.

For a moment, he was tempted to take Bruce’s hardening cock in his mouth, but opted to trail his tongue from Bruce’s thigh all the way up to his chest. There, he sought out one of his nipples and bit down somewhat hard. Now that they were both stripped down, they could take to the bed and that is exactly where Jason flopped down without a care about grace or style.

Bruce walked over to Jason, their eyes fixing on one another. Index and middle finger traced across his thigh as he waited for Bruce to get close enough. One of Bruce’s knees pressed against the bed while the other leg kept straight and grounded. Slowly Bruce leaned in and pressed a light kiss on him.

The longer it lingered, the more he pushed for more. Lips parted to coax Bruce into taking more from the kiss. Jason lifted one leg up to rub against Bruce’s groin and in return he felt a firmness growing against his thigh. An arm wrapped around Bruce’s shoulders, fingers dug into his shoulder blade, while the other draped above his own head.

Breaking the kiss, Jason looked up at Bruce, panting lightly. Eyes ran over the older man in thought, taking in the lines and sharpness of his face. Nothing had changed since their last encounter, yet he always looked to see if there were any new lines — scars — he had to memorize. His knee pressed harder against Bruce’s groin while he muttered, “Better hurry up before I get bored.”

In response to his words, one of Bruce’s hands pressed against his stomach, the other reached to grab his jaw. The hand that had been resting on his abdomen slid down to palm over Jason’s cock. He couldn’t help but arch up toward Bruce at that contact.

Jason was sure he was as erect as Bruce was, which meant that brought them to fairly even playing grounds. His leg rubbed harder against Bruce’s groin, wanting to gain back that upper-hand. Despite his efforts, he knew with whatever happened to be Bruce’s next actions, he would be, once again, at Bruce’s mercy.

The way their fingers twined together when Bruce had moved his hand. That gentle pressure of more of Bruce’s weight coming down on him and pushing him deeper into the plush quilt and mattress. A warm and passionate kiss that damn near left him breathless. All of this worked to rob him of the fight and aggression that boiled inside of him. It was moments like these that almost lured him home, but then he was always reminded of what had happened.

Shifting some, Jason pulled his leg from between Bruce’s leg and hooked it around his hip to pull him in close. His back arched just enough to press his body up against Bruce’s and rub against him. Their cocks brushed against one another and he could feel just how hard Bruce was, as well as himself.

What little patience he had in the beginning was starting to dwindle at a rapid pace and he was demanding more from Bruce with his body. In the kiss, he bit down on Bruce’s already damaged lip, wanting to mark him further. Bite marks were so easy to cover up anywhere else, but this would be so much harder to hide.

Before he could get Bruce completely on the bed, all contact was broken as Bruce pulled away. With how composed Bruce was, Jason would never have guessed that the other man was in the midst of sex or that what he pulled from the draw would be a condom and a tube of lube. Both of which were dropped onto his stomach, he might add.

Eyes followed Bruce as he sunk down onto the ground. Being tugged some some, Bruce pulled one of Jason’s legs over his shoulder. At this position, he was able to bend his leg over Bruce’s shoulder and rest his calf against Bruce’s back. Initially, he squirmed against the older man, but ultimately had given in out of curiosity. Sometimes it was interesting to see whatever Bruce had planned for him.

The other leg was allowed to hang off the edge of the bed, toes barely brushing against the ground. A strong hand rested on Jason’s thigh while the other got the lube open and squeezed over his thigh. Almost every last drop of it was collected on Bruce’s fingers, leaving only a small patch of slickness behind.

Bruce’s first finger was inserted into Jason and he let his head drop back. It felt like ages since he’d last felt Bruce’s like this and it flooded him with memories and sensations. Arching up, he gave Bruce a bit more room to work and only accommodated him slightly, but gave him much more of a welcome to his body than he’d ever planned to.

It wasn’t long until a second finger was inserted inside of Jason, accompanied by the feeling of of being stretched by Bruce’s fingers opening him up more. There was an ache that ran up into his spine, reveling in that subtle sensation. Just so subtly, but enough that Bruce would notice, his legs spread open. Perhaps this was his way to beg for more without asking for it.

When there was a delay in any progress, Jason began to grow impatient. The last few drops of patience started to dry up. Wiggling some, he tried to push Bruce for more. The hand that was resting on his thigh moved to push against his stomach, holding him down. That small action made his blood boil. “Bruce…” he growled out in a threatening tone.

Even with the warning, the preparation continued to linger well past what he felt it should. Since he felt beyond prepared, Jason’s snapped. He squirmed up the bed and away from the fingers that were pressed deep inside.

On the floor, Bruce lingered for about a minute, perhaps two, until finally climbing on the bed, having taken the cue that he was done and ready. The moment Bruce was on the bed, Jason turned the tides and pressed the older man against the mattress.

With some cooperation, he managed to get Bruce up to the headboard. Granted, the position was far from comfortable with how Bruce’s head, neck and shoulders curled awkwardly in this position. That didn’t much bother Jason. Bruce was a big boy, he could shift as he needed.

Before crawling on top of Bruce, he reached to grab the lube from the bed with the intention to properly slick Bruce up. Uncapping the tube, he spread a copious amount over his hand while he sat comfortably on Bruce’s abdomen. In this position, with how his legs were spread, a few drops of lube leaked out of his ass.

Jason’s hand wrapped around Bruce’s cock, rubbing the lube over his cock and covering every inch. The motions were slow and taunted Bruce with a tease. Idly, his thumb brushed over the distal end of Bruce’s penis. Arching his back, he leaned just a bit forward to rub his erection against Bruce’s chest and abdomen. When their eyes met, he shot a cocky grin to the man trapped below him, enjoying the power play that was going on.

Normally, when Bruce had control, he insisted on using a condom — like the one he’d pulled from the drawer — to keep things clean, but whenever Jason took control, that was the last thing he cared about. Sliding down Bruce’s body, he rubbed Bruce’s fully erect cock against his ass, not quite giving him complete satisfaction just yet.

“I thought you were growing impatient?” Bruce commented as a challenge. Narrowing his eyes, Jason felt a prickle of anger burn up the back of his neck and he grabbed Bruce’s jaw, daring him to say another word. When the silence lingered for a minute, he calmed down, even if it was only a little.

Shifting into an almost predatory position, Jason’s legs tensed to the point of slight strain to allow Bruce the sight of him sinking down on that hard and thick erection. “I’ll take what I want, when I want,” he spat back through grit teeth, holding back no aggression.

Bending over Bruce, he grabbed onto the headboard with both his hands. After one last glance at Bruce, Jason lifted his head to stare at the wall and just focus on the feeling of the other man to remind himself that even if he couldn’t see Bruce, he was right there with him.

The pace started out as slow and easy. There was no real reason to rush like the other times he crashed Bruce’s house in an intoxicated state Those other times he was trying to beat the clock and get off well before he sobered up. This time, he was almost completely sober by the time they made it to bed. Now he had a battle raging against the emotions that wanted him to run.

Hands wrapped around the back of Jason neck, startling him. The simple touch caused him to stop his motions in an instant. His arms eased up on the headboard and he was pulled into a tender, but deep kiss. Bracing himself now on Bruce’s shoulders, he began to rock on top of him. He didn’t break from the kiss, just soaking in that comfort.

Intense feelings swelled inside him and he could feel the control starting to shift back from himself back over to Bruce. Even if he was on top — even if he was trying to maintain the dominance — Jason knew that he had already lost this supposed fight. Maybe, for Bruce, it was never about control and who won out over who, but he would never properly admit to that possibility.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason quickly hid his face against Bruce’s neck to hide whatever look might possibly be on his face. While it pissed him off to hide in the shadows, it would even worse if he was showing any of the emotions that were confusing him. To distract himself, he bit down some on Bruce’s shoulder and rocked harder on top of Bruce. All he wanted was to rid himself of these emotions.

Somewhere in the midst of Jason’s thrusts and rocking, he was rolled onto his back and completely exposed to Bruce. The warmth of his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to the alcohol. So, he would attribute it to the warmth of the room and the heat of the sex, but perhaps it was much more than just that. Fingers dug into Bruce’s back at this new angle with every thrust inside of him.

Part of Jason was grateful when Bruce began to kiss at his neck so he wouldn’t have the chance see the look on his own face. A leg hooked around Bruce as he pulled him in close, trying to take in every thrust as deep as possible — every movement that Bruce would feed him. He bared his neck further, letting him have what he wanted, conceding to the fact that this time, perhaps, Bruce had full and complete control, even if he would never state this.

The leg that hadn’t hooked over Bruce slid to the side, spreading himself further open, to let Bruce work deep and hard. That pace was strong enough that he could hear skin slapping against skin in the quiet room, their breaths becoming harsher and deeper. Inside that room, there wasn’t a single sound of the night, but only of the sounds of their bodies connecting; that give and take of want and need.

“Think you can keep up with me, old ma—” Just before Jason could finish his question, a strong and firm hand wrapped around his penis, causing him to gasp and tense up. The way Bruce twisted his wrist and caused his hand to slide in just the right was obvious proof that Bruce had memorized all of his weak points and everything that drove him crazy. In a way, he wanted to curse his own body for becoming predictable under that touch.

Nothing he could do about it now, though. At this point, he was trapped and all of this was rapidly turning from just some playful game into something with much more meaning and depth to it. In ways, he hated himself for letting it get this way — letting himself get caged like a bird. “Bruce, we should stop.”

A deep and low laughter escaped from his former partner’s mouth. Or maybe they were current partners, pending the definition. Either way, that laugh was infuriating and he wanted to lash out against it. “Leave it to you to say that right now, but I’m not letting go. Not this time.” It was rare to see this much emotion in Bruce’s face and even then it was hard to read.

This was stupid. All of it. Instead of dwelling on that, though, his other leg hooked around Bruce’s waist and began to rub hard against him. Talk time was over. Even thinking had to stop. So, Jason did the only thing he could and sink into that pleasure.

With that focus shifting off of his fucked up emotional state, Jason realized just how full he felt. Paying this close attention to the details of their sexual encounter, he could feel the light throb of Bruce’s hard cock deep inside of him. There was a small shiver that swept through his body as he felt his own pre-cum drip against his stomach.

One thing he refused to do was touch himself. Even when focused completely on the sensations, there was still a stubborn streak him in that refused to show any sign of desperation. When Bruce leaned down to kiss him, Jason dodged it and pulled him down closer so he could hook his chin over Bruce’s shoulder.

At this closer contact, in combination of the rocking from the older man, he could feel the friction between his erection and Bruce’s stomach. Right now, he should be completely sober, but the more he felt and focused on these sensation, the more intoxicated he felt. Every inch of his body felt warm and his nerve endings were beginning to tingle.

There were no sounds in the room except for the pair of them. It was almost as if the rest of the world ceased to exist and it felt like nothing else mattered anymore. The only things that mattered were the sounds and sensations.

What could be heard — the creaking of the bed, their breaths coming out as pants, flesh meeting flesh with every single thrust — sounded muffled behind the throbbing in Jason’s ear. His sense of touch was flaring with the contact points between them, lighting him up like fire. He could also feel the friction between them, despite the lubrication, sweat and pre-cum.

No matter how hard he tried to hold out, it was no use. Every muscle in his body tensed up as his cock twitched and throbbed at his ejaculation. It was probable that Bruce would have claw marks down his back with blood to accompany the marks. To hold back his moan, Jason’s jaw tightened and he held his breath to the point where he almost passed out.

When the orgasm subsided and his breathing resumed, in the midst of his dizziness, Jason almost released Bruce. That is, until the older man began to pull away before he even finished. Refusing to let Bruce off that easy, he tightened his arms and legs around him and bit down on Bruce’s ear.

It was hard moving under Bruce, trapped beneath his weight, but he refused to let Bruce pull away. The other man must be holding back from the lack of a condom — nothing to keep this situation at least someone clean. That’s the problem, though. Nothing about this encounter was clean or fair and Jason wanted Bruce to realize it in every way.

The exertion was wearing him down and a small part of Jason’s mind wondered if this was Bruce’s ultimate goal, a trick to keep him here until morning. Pushing down that thought, he rocked his hips harder and tightened his legs around Bruce.

One of the things he was trained to do was read body language and by now, he had picked up on habits and quirks of Bruce when he was close to climax. Heightened pulse, tensed muscles, and Jason was sure that if he could see Bruce’s face right now, he would see that subtle crease in his forehead.

All too soon, he felt his ass fill with semen. A sticky mess that would have to be cleaned tonight. So, the moment Jason was able to get free, he slipped out of bed, ass tightened to keep anything from dripping out on the rug. More so to spare Alfred the trouble than Bruce. If he could see Bruce Wayne on all fours scrubbing dried cum out, that would be well worth it.

As he was walking, Jason only spared a glance over his shoulder at Bruce before continuing on his route toward the bathroom. His fingers played on the door handle for a moment before commenting, “I can’t promise I’ll come back to bed after.” Now, the choice was up to Bruce.


End file.
